


The Soldier

by Poplitealqueen



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Medical Horror, Other, Sith Obi-Wan, Winter Soldier AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 06:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13161639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poplitealqueen/pseuds/Poplitealqueen
Summary: “It's true. It really is you,” Skywalker says, blinking once as he takes a step forward. His throat visibly bobs as he swallows. “I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan.”The Soldier shifts his lightsaber higher, preparing to strike, and asks, “Who the hells is Obi-Wan?”





	The Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Little known fact about me: I am a _huge_ sucker for the MCU. I may not write it much (mostly because that fandom is gigantic and terrifying and I'm scared to try, ha), but I love it. One movie I'm particularly fond of (when I want to be depressed) is The Winter Soldier. Brain-washed former friend turned into a secret weapon? Political intrigue? Super gay? What's not to love!
> 
> This ficlet is special. Mostly because it's one of the few times that I've written a prompt and immediately said "I could write an entire series surrounded around this concept." I don't know if I ever will (like I said, the MCU fandom is fucking intimidating), but the thought is there. What do you think, peeps that read these notes? Would you want more of this? Lemme know, if you feel so inclined. I know _I_ want more, but I'm a sheep I don't know how to make decisions on my own.
> 
> (hahaha, kidding! Probably. I'm really just obscenely lazy)
> 
> And with all that being said, I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> -Pop

Being awoken from cryogenic hibernation was a gradual process.

It was always his hearing that came back first. The echo of voices outside his capsule, the creaking hydraulics as the capsule's cover was opened, the click-hiss of the respirator locked around his nose and mouth, pumping oxygen down his throat with a longx slim tube.

Next came physical feeling. A prickling sensation that graduated to fire eating away at his insides. Tubes fed into his skin, injecting him with what he assumed, when he was finally awake enough _to_ assume anything, whatever chemical agents were used to wake him up in the first place. It was always in these first few moments after being awoken that he was also most acutely aware of his arm, or, really, what remained of it.

He arms and legs were always bound down beneath thick metal bars, and always, inevitably, he broke through them. He’d bring his hands to his face, and the right would be cold, sensation-less.

His eyes always seemed to finally decide to work right around this point. They would blink open like a baby’s, and what came into focus would be a durasteel hand with servos instead of joints.

His mind would rebel at the sight, and whenever his mind rebelled, it would always reach out to the one thing he knew, inexplicably, should always be with him: the Force. 

( _what is that?_ )

But it wasn’t there.

( _why do I need it?_ )

It never was anymore.

* * *

Understanding comes when the man in the black hood appears. The man’s eyes are golden pinpricks in a mass of ungainly scars, and the man always speaks the same words, in an ancient tongue that he ( _who am I?_ he always wonders at this point, with the name, a definition of himself, seeming just out of reach) doesn’t understand, but the words still strike a cord within him.

With each word, drawled out by a voice that seems just short of laughing, the inumerable shields around his mind, around his memories, around his every sense of self, tighten. It’s suffocating.

Yet when the last word comes, it goes blank. All of it, like a page being erased, and he knows who he is.

He is the Soldier.

The man in the hood grins, and asks in a language the Soldier can understand.

“Soldier?”

The Soldier raises his head, and his eyes are a dead, cold blue. “Ready to comply,” he replies, in a voice gruff from disuse, and the man in the hood’s smile grows.

The Soldier’s mission is simple: he’s to hunt down a radical former Jedi attempting to bring together a Rebellion. It should be an easy job for one that has trained as he has.

He doesn’t remember it, but he has hunted many, many Jedi before.

* * *

The Soldier makes his way easily through the Rebel compound, using every weapon available, from blasters to his metal arm to the lightsaber gifted to him by his handler, the man in the hood, his Emperor, to cut his way straight to the Jedi in charge of it all.

The man that stands in the final room has a metal arm as well, long dark hair, a scar bisecting one eye, and a look of shock that’s different from the usual ones the Soldier is used to.

Something about this Anakin Skywalker is off, but the Soldier has a mission, and he will see it through.

He stalks forward with lightsaber in hand, and Skywalker ignites his own. That strange look is still trained on the Soldier.

“It's true. It really is you,” Skywalker says, blinking once as he takes a step forward. His throat visibly bobs as he swallows. “I’m so sorry, Obi-Wan.”

The Soldier shifts his lightsaber higher, preparing to strike, and asks, “Who the hells is Obi-Wan?”

**Author's Note:**

> *Palpatine is speaking in High Sith btdubs. Pretty sure he doesn't know Russian.  
> *The Winter Soldier has the greatest end credits of any Marvel movie, hands down. I'm listening/watching it as I type this, and it STILL holds up. Fight me on it if you dare. Ya can't.


End file.
